


I Don't Want to Live Forever If I can't Have You

by cerulean363



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x03 coda, Cas deserves everything, M/M, Mutual Pining, dean gets his head out of his ass, dean needs to appreciate cas, happy endings, spoilers for season 15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-03 23:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerulean363/pseuds/cerulean363
Summary: Dean's words went too far, and now Cas is gone. Dean doesn't care, or does he? Sam wants to find their best friend and bring him back, but when he returns to the bunker empty-handed, Dean is suspicious. Dean goes on his own search for Cas but when he finally finds him, it doesn't go like Dean expects. Dean needs to finally use his words, or he may lose Cas, or any chance of happiness for either of them, forever.





	1. What's on Sam's Phone?

“I’m going to find Cas.” Sam announced, duffel in hand. Dean snorted and waved his hand as if to say ‘whatever’ and ignored the uncomfortable throbbing of his chest at the words.

It had been six months since Cas had closet that bunker door with such finality. Sam had asked that night where Cas was, and Dean had shrugged noncommittedly. It took a week for Dean to drink himself into a stupor and finally admit why Cas was gone and the words they had exchanged that lead him out the door. When Sam had heard the vicious words that Dean said he was shocked and furious. He waited until Dean awoke the next day, head pounding with a hangover, and punched Dean in the face, knocking Dean back.

“What the fuck?” Dean had yelled, clutching his spinning head.

“Fix it.”

“Fix what?”

“Cas. Apologize for what you said to him and tell him you’re the biggest asshole.”

Dean glared at Sam. “No. You know what he did.”

“Really? Do you know what he did? Because _I _don’t remember him killing Mom, I don’t remember him trying to kill Jack or unleashing hell on Earth. What I do remember is him doing his best to help his family. I remember a man grieving for his son but still trying to keep the fight going and help and protect people. That what I remember him doing.”

Dean had merely stared at his brother, feeling a wave of emotions threatening to crash down on him. Then he growled and mentally pushed the wave away. He pushed past his brother and stalked back to his room, slamming the door.

Sam hadn’t tried to talk to Dean about Cas again, but Dean would often catch Sam staring at him disapprovingly or would shake his head at Dean’s tantrums in disappointment. This had continued for six months. Six months of angry Dean and consequently, disappointed Sam.

“He chose to leave. It’s not like he went hunting and is suddenly missing. He knows where we are, he chose not to come back.” Said Dean gruffly, nearly choking on the words ‘chose not to come back’ but stopping himself first. That would make it seem like he was upset that Cas left him-_them, _and he wasn’t. He didn’t care. So what if he had taken to throwing things around the bunker, leaving a trail of booze in the wake of his temper? They had lost Mary, and Jack, and even Rowena, that would make anyone emotional. So what if his chest ached constantly, and seeing strangers in bulky trench coats made his stomach turn sour and nauseous? He ate a lot of crap and he was in his forties, he probably just had clogged arteries. And who wouldn’t want to throw up at the sight of tan too-big trench coats, they were hideous. At least this is what he told himself, at night when he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the sight of pain and betrayal in blue eyes.

He held on to that anger, because if he wasn’t angry, he would feel the guilt. He would feel the emptiness that haunted the bunker and his heart. So he stayed angry.

Sam stared at him in frustration. “Cas left because you drove him away.”

Dean refused to look Sam in the eye.

Sam sighed, resigned. “You seem to forget that he’s my best friend too, and I miss him. We’ve lost nearly everyone, and I really don’t want to lose Cas too. So I’m bringing him back so stow your crap because it is not up to you who gets to stay in the bunker and be part of my life.”

And with that, Sam walked determinedly out the door, leaving a shocked Dean behind.

* * *

Dean spent the first week of Sam absence either drinking or searching for cases. He refused to acknowledge where Sam was or what he was doing. By the second week, he caught himself hoping that Sam would be home soon, and more than one person would be walking through that door. Every time Dean caught himself fantasizing having a familiar deep tenor back in the bunker, he would berate himself, then find the nearest whiskey bottle and drink until he couldn’t remember his daydreams. This lasted for a whole week, but by the second week, Dean was a little curious, and also out of booze. He texted Sam simply:

**Find him?**

Dean absolutely did not spend the rest of the day glancing at his phone, waiting for an answer. He definitely did not lunge across the table in the war room to reach his phone when he heard a small ‘ping’.

**From Sam: Not yet.**

Something settled inside Dean. Not yet, but he would. When Sam put his mind to something, nothing would stand in his way. If Sam Winchester could fight Hell and Heaven and win, then finding one angel would be a cakewalk. Dean couldn’t help the small smile that escaped at the thought of having Cas back in the bunker, even if it was just to hang out with Sam. For the first time in six months, Dean allowed himself to miss his best friend. And then the guilt hit him like a tsunami, and Dean was suddenly overwhelmed by it. Tears pricked his eyes and his breaths came ragged.

_Oh my god the things I said to Cas! I told him he was dead to me! I said that he’s the reason everything goes wrong! I treated him like shit after we lost our son. I drove him away. He left. He left!_

He left! And just like that, Dean was furious at Cas again. He welcomed the anger like an old friend, a blanket soothing away his guilt and sadness. Cas left them. Surely, he knew Dean just needed time, his mom and Jack had just died. He blamed Cas because he thought Cas would know he just needed to lash out. Because that’s what Dean always does, lash out, because he can’t handle his feelings any other way. He thought Cas would understand, that Cas would never leave- And that was the kicker wasn’t it? Dean was so sure that Cas would never leave them, no matter what, like Cas was a loyal dog who loved his owners even when they kicked him and abused him. Dean knows deep down that he shouldn’t have taken Castiel’s loyalty for granted, should have known that everyone can only be pushed so far, but Cas had always let Dean punch him or yell at him when Dean was angry, because Cas _understood_. At least he thought so. He had never acknowledged taking his temper out on Cas because he figured Cas understood and forgave him. But Cas left. Dean went to far this time, he knows that, but he never thought he’d see Castiel walk away because of it. He left, _and he didn’t come back._

So Dean suppressed it all behind a wall in his head rather than acknowledge his actions and words to Cas. Still, that week Dean and Sam texted periodically, usually just updating with a location or a ‘still looking’. Dean didn’t realize that hope was beginning to leak into his chest, until week three, when he received a text that read:

**From Sam: I think I found him.**

Dean felt all of his anger ooze out of him. Sam found Castiel. Cas was coming home! His heart alighted with hope and happiness. This time he didn’t stop his daydreams of Cas returning. All week he imagined what he would say. He settled on telling Cas that he was sorry for what he said, he was just going through stuff, and Cas would understand because he always understands. Maybe it would take some time before they could be as close, but Castiel would be _here._ He was family, and Dean needed his family, or he would fall apart.

When the bunker door opened a few days later, Dean couldn’t help but jump up and run through his apology in his head as we waited with bated breath. Sam walked in, beard a little longer, and shut the door. No one else came through. Dean couldn’t help but deflate as his brother, and only his brother descended the stairs. Dean sat back in his chair and waited for Sam to walk over.

“Well?” Dean tried to hide the hope from his voice.

Sam looked startled and his eyes shot back forth across the room.

“Oh, uh I couldn’t find him”

Dean was confused, “So you just gave up?”

Sam shrugged and averted his eyes, “Well like you said, he knows where we are.”

Sam adjusted the duffel strap on his shoulder, then quickly brushed past Dean, still avoiding his eyes. Dean watched his brother’s odd behavior suspiciously. Sam doesn’t give up. Especially not on family. And why wouldn’t he look Dean in the eye. Dean inhaled sharply.

_Sam’s lying._

* * *

Dean stared across the table at his brother, who was eating the burger Dean had made him, and chatting happily about his travels, but completely avoiding the topic of Castiel altogether. Dean was trying to work through why Sam would lie to him. He would have told him if there was something wrong with Cas, right? Dean cleared his throat,

“So you didn’t even find a trace of him?”

Sam paused mid-bite.

“Oh, uh no. Guess he didn’t want to be found. You know him, he’s good at laying low.”

Dean snorted at that. Cas stood out like the Impala in a parking lot of Priuses. The guy wouldn’t understand subtle if it bit him on the ass.

“Sure, but then why the text saying you thought you had found him?”

“Oh it turned out to be another angel, you remember Anael?”

Dean thought back, he remembered red hair and her being in cahoots with Lucifer. Dean growled, he hadn’t forgiven that.

“Did you at least ask the feathery bitch if she had seen him?”

“Of course I did! She said she hasn’t seen him in over a year. What’s with all of the questions anyway? I thought you didn’t care if he came back?”

Dean pounded a fist on the table.

“And you said he was your best friend. You said he needed to be here. And yet here you are, completely giving up, like you don’t even want Castiel back!”

Sam finally met Dean’s eyes in shock. It was the first time Dean had said Castiel’s name out loud since he left.

It was Dean’s turn to avert his eyes.

“Like you said, he’s family” there was a pause and Dean could feel Sam’s gaze boring into him. Uncomfortable, he added, “No matter what he did.”

At this, Sam gave a frustrated sigh and returned to staring down at his burger.

“I’m sorry Dean, I couldn’t find him. I think he’s right and we should move on.” Sam spoke the words softly, but Dean had gone rigid hearing those fateful words parroted back at him. He didn’t move when Sam got up and cleared his plate. He didn’t move when Sam went to bed and the bunker was once again silent.

Should he move on? Even if Dean wanted to, he didn’t think he could move on from the hole in his chest. Not when it throbbed constantly, like it was calling for it’s other half to come and make it whole. Not when blue eyes peered at him in his dreams and in his nightmares. He could try to move on. Dean was a broken man, who cares if he’s a little more broken now than before?

The atmosphere was tense the next day, as Dean alternated between staring at Sam suspiciously, and losing himself to his own thoughts. Sam tried to carry on like everything was normal. Talking about possible cases, discussing lore, and even putting on a western he knew Dean loved, grabbing a beer for each of them when they sat down to watch. If he thought that would assuage Dean’s suspicion, he was wrong.

Sam and Dean were both pretending to watch the movie, when a quiet ‘ping’ echoed in the room. Because Dean had been eyeing Sam all day with suspicion, he easily caught the brief expression of panic on Sam’s face, before he quickly turned off his phone and shoved it under him.

Dean raised an eyebrow, “Who was that?”

Sam shrugged, still staring at the tv. “Just a hunter asking about some lore.”

Dean raised the other eyebrow.

“If it’s a hunter who needed help on a case, why didn’t you answer it?” They both knew that speed was everything when working a case. A hunter couldn’t afford to wait a week for information. Time made the difference between life and death.

The panicked face returned for a second before Sam was bounding up out of the chair.

“Of course! You’re right! I’m just going to uh, answer this- I mean! Look this up! Yeah I’m just going to research, so uh raincheck on the movie?” and with that, Sam practically ran out of the room.

Dean stared after him. Well that wasn’t weird at all.

* * *

Dean was now certain that all the answers to Sam’s odd behavior were in that phone. The problem was, Sam wouldn’t let it out of his sight. First, Dean tried asking for it with the excuse that he needed a certain hunter’s number but he didn’t have it on his own phone. Sam didn’t even pause in his reading before replying, “I’ll write it down for you.” Dean frowned, but he was determined. Sam had to put the phone down at some point, right?

It turns out that Sam does not, in fact, ever have to put his phone down. It was either glued to his hand or his pocket. Dean was beginning to worry that all that radiation couldn’t be good for him. But on the other hand, Dean was sure Sam was more likely to die from a battle with a big bad, than say testicular cancer.

His chance finally came at night when Sam finally went to bed. Dean waited until he was sure Sam was asleep before sneaking into his room. Like Dean had suspected, Sam had set the phone on his dresser, plugged in to charge. Sam probably had assumed that Dean would respect the sanctity and privacy that was a bedroom door. He should know by now that Dean had no boundaries. He quietly slipped out of the room, prize in hand, before settling against the wall and scrolling through Sam’s phone.

He cracked the password within five minutes (Jack’s birthday, Dean had winced with guilt at that. Sometimes he forgot Jack was like a son to Sam too), and he immediately clicked on the messaging icon. The first few conversations were indeed from other hunters, but there was one conversation under an unsaved number. Dean clicked it, and quickly read the texts. Dean suddenly couldn’t breathe. It felt like all of the wind had been knocked out of him, as if he’d been hit in the chest with a hammer. His legs gave out and he slid down the wall to the floor. He read the texts again.

**From Sam : I’m always here if you need me Cas**

**From Cas: I know, thank you Sam.**

And the last one, Dean could still see it when he closed his eyes, like they were burned into the back of his eyelids. The last text read:

**From Cas: Don’t tell Dean.**


	2. It's Not Enough to Say Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean searches for Cas, but this time it might be too late. Cas did say it was time to move on.

Dean lost track of how long he sat against that wall, staring at Sam’s phone. So many thoughts were racing through his head, he didn’t even know what he was feeling anymore. If he had to guess, he would have said numb.

_Sam found Cas. Sam lied to me. Sam still talks to Cas. Where is Cas. What does it mean ‘don’t tell Dean’? Don’t tell me what? Are he and Sam sharing secrets? Sam is lying to me. Sam doesn’t want me to know where Cas is. Is something wrong? Is Cas in trouble? Does he not want me to know he’s in trouble? Does Cas think I wouldn’t help him? Sam doesn’t want me to know what’s wrong with Cas. Is Cas dying? He said his powers were failing. Oh my god, Cas is dying! Sam left Cas when he was dying? Does Cas not want me to know he’s dying? Does he think I wouldn’t care? Where are you Castiel?_

The thought of Cas dying somewhere by himself is what finally had Dean picking himself off the floor and heading to the war room. From there it was too easy to track the number off Sam’s phone and find a location.

Maine. Cas was in a small town in the middle of nowhere Maine. Dean didn’t know why he found this information so shocking. Somewhere deep down he had always assumed Cas would stay in Kansas, or at least somewhere nearby. Instead Cas was in Maine, over a day’s drive from Kansas. He was practically in goddam Canada.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Dean quietly closed the laptop and returned Sam’s phone. Next thing he knew he had a bag packed and was sliding into the Impala’s driver’s seat.

* * *

The drive to Maine should have taken twenty-eight hours, it took Dean twenty-two. Dean only stopped to get gas and use the bathroom. The rest of the time was spent pushing the speed limit. Well if you count going over 20 mph over the speed limit ‘pushing’ it. Semantics. Sam tried calling and texting him several times, but Dean simply ignored him, eventually turning the phone off. Dean wasn’t the only one who could track a cellphone after all.

Dean couldn’t help but spend the entire drive picturing horrible scenarios Cas could have found himself in. Trapped by hunters, ripped apart by monster, but what Dean always came back to, and what he feared to be the most likely, whatever Chuck had done, it was killing Castiel. Cas had told him the night he left that his powers were failing. Dean remembers because that cruel conversation was never far from his mind. He went through it over and over, sometimes to justify his anger, but usually to punish himself. Yes, Cas had tried to tell Dean, and Dean hadn’t listened. And now Cas was out there alone dying because of Dean. The thought had made Dean push the gas down harder.

When Dean finally arrived at the town Castiel’s phone was tracked to, Dean was surprised to find a cozy fishing town on the coast. It only had three stoplights and was littered with little mom and pop shops. Despite it being similar to Lebanon, if a little smaller, Dean felt an intense dislike for the town. Still, if he wanted to talk to the locals, he would have to put his signature charm. Because even though the cell number had lead him to the town, Dean still had no idea where in town Cas was.

Dean decided to first try the diner, as it seemed to have the most foot traffic and was really as good as any place to start. Also Dean hadn’t eaten in a day and his stomach was starting to protest.

He pulled into the parking lot of the diner, and as he pushed the diner door in, he begrudgingly had to admit it smelled _really_ good. He sat on a red plastic barstool, and turned on his signature Dean smile, flashing it at the waitress. The waitress, a petite blonde woman likely in her mid-twenties, politely smiled back at Dean with a practice that said he wasn’t the only person who thought she would be easy to charm.

“What can I get for ya’” she asked.

Dean glanced at the menu briefly before returning it to her.

“Let’s start with the houseburger with a side of fries and a coffee.”

She nodded her head as she wrote down his order, then briskly made her way to the kitchen. While she was gone, Dean settled down and turned to observe the rest of the patrons. There were only five other people at the diner. A man in his late fifties with a worn sweater sat at the bar to Dean’s right. There was a couple of teens sharing a milkshake in a booth and Dean wondered if he’d somehow managed to time travel back to the fifties. There was one more couple in the diner at a table on the opposite end of where the teenagers were. They were silently eating, occasionally looking at each other and smiling fondly. Dean thought that he might very nearly feel regretful to interrupt what was clearly a date, so he decided to start grilling the waitress and man next to him first.

“’Scuse me miss?” The waitress looked at Dean, her practiced smile gracing her face.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually looking for a friend of mine, I was hoping you could help me.”

The girl dropped her customer service smile and gave him a genuine but curious smile instead.

“Oh okay, what’s their name? What do they look like?”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. He suddenly wished he had a picture of Cas to show her, but he didn’t. Why didn’t he have any pictures of Cas? He had pictures of his mom and Sam, and even of Jack, but he didn’t have any of Castiel. Regret and guilt bubbled inside him. That was the first thing he would do after he talked to Cas. He would take his picture; he would take a million pictures of Castiel.

The waitress looked at him expectantly as she waited for him to answer. Dean cleared his throat and tried to clear his head.

“He uh has dark hair, really blue eyes. He’s tall, like an inch or two shorter than me. Oh, and he was probably wearing a suit with a blue tie and a trench coat.”

The waitress’s smile had begun to slip when he began to describe Cas, falling completely off her face at the mention of the trench coat.

“No, I’ve never seen anyone like that before, try a different town.” She said brusquely, immediately turning around to leave.

Dean knew when he was being brushed off, and this girl had definitely seen Cas.

“Wait, please!” Dean said, grabbing the waitress’s arm before she could go. “My name’s Dean, he’s a friend of mine and I’m just worried about him.”

There was a loud bang and Dean looked to his right to see the man in the sweater had slammed down his coffee mug and was glaring at Dean like he’d kicked his puppy.

“She said she’s never seen no man like that before. Now take your hand off her, and kindly leave” the man growled, not at all kindly.

Dean was taken aback by the harsh tone of the man. Something was up, if they didn’t know Cas, why would they be so defensive. Dean had sudden flashbacks of a small town, apple pie, and pagan god who liked sacrifices. Now more convinced than ever that something was wrong, and this town was part of it, Dean stood up to confront the man and demand the truth. But as he stood up, he realized that the two couples had gotten up and surrounded him. Every person in the diner stood as if gearing for a fight, their eyes steady and angry upon Dean.

Dean knew he was outnumbered, so he casually took money out of his wallet and placed it on the counter.

“Well I guess I’ll just be off then” he said calmly, as if he wasn’t surrounded by feral townsfolk. He walked past the couple and the teens, feeling six pairs of eyes bore into the back of his skull, though no one took a step after him. As he opened the door, he heard the man growl.

“You’re not welcome here Dean Winchester.”

Dean walked through the door without a backward glance.

_I never said Winchester._

* * *

Dean sat in the Impala, ruminating over what had just happened in the diner. Clearly his initial assessment of the town was right, it was hella shady. Now Dean just needed to figure out what was going on, and where they were keeping Cas. His first guess was demons or a pagan god, but he also wouldn’t rule out witchcraft.

Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere interviewing the townsfolk, he decided to take a different approach. He took the laptop out of his bag (which he may or may not of stolen from Sam), and googled the town. He didn’t find much, apparently no one in this town used social media. He did however, find local real estate listings. There were only three houses listed, two were still on the market, but one had sold three months ago.

_Bingo._ Dean would bet that the new townies either weren’t part of the weird town cult yet, or they were the cause of the weird cult vibe. If the first, at least they would probably talk to him. If the latter, well, the sooner he gets to solve this problem really. Win-win.

Dean scribbled down the address on a scrap of paper, before putting the laptop away and pulling out of the driveway. Along the way to the sold house he passed through the neighborhoods, noting the large, but not too large, houses with white picket fences. Literal white picket fences. Yeah, this place was definitely evil.

Dean eventually pulled into the driveway of an inviting one-story house. There were large flowerbeds and what looked like a new garden on either side of the house. Small stalks could be seen freshly emerged from the dirt. The house itself was a soft green with a white porch where two chairs sat, and Dean could easily see where the occupants might sit out with their morning coffee and observe the neighborhood. An old yellow Volkswagen sat in the driveway. Dean was suddenly overcome with the hope that these people were innocent. He couldn’t see monsters making a home so cozy.

Dean walked the porch steps and stood at the front door. He took a second to check his pockets and make sure he had his fake badge. Satisfied, he knocked firmly on the door three times, then waited, plastering a smile on when he heard the doorknob turn.

The door opened and he was greeted with familiar red hair, and his smile vanished.

“You!” he snarled. Then, before anyone could blink, Dean was lunging forward at the woman, angel blade out. He shoved her inside, are around her neck blade against her throat.

“Where is he?” Dean’s voice was deadly, “What have you done with him?”

Anael grasped at her throat where Dean’s arm was choking her.

“I d-don’t kn-know what you’re t-talking about!” She gasped, struggling to breathe.

Dean pushed the blade harder against her neck.

“Don’t lie to me!” Anael continued to choke, “Where is Castiel?”

“Dean” said a deep, gravelly voice.

Dean froze. He slowly turned around, and there he was, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Dean felt like he’d just taken two rounds with Lucifer. His chest ached and swelled, and his stomach swooped, and he was suddenly dizzy. God, Dean hadn’t realized just how much he had missed Castiel until he saw him. There he was, dark hair askew, eyes bluer than any ocean. The pain and the guilt and the _longing_ swept over him, and he staggered, forgetting the angel he had in a headlock.

“Dean,” Oh how Dean missed hearing his name from those lips. “Let her go.” Castiel said, deadly calm and firm.

Castiel wasn’t wearing his usual suit and trench coat. He was wearing jeans and a faded blue t-shirt, and Dean couldn’t look away.

“Cas” Dean breathed out, his voice ragged.

“Let her go.” Cas repeated.

Dean finally saw the expression in Castiel’s eyes and it was _furious. _Dean let go of Anael, eyes never leaving hypnotic blue. Dean took a step toward Cas, ready to pull him into a long- overdue hug, but Castiel’s eyes hardened at the movement and Dean stopped.

“Cas, I-“  
“What are you doing here Dean.”

Dean felt the acid in his tone like a slap to the face. He’d forgotten, in that moment where he’d laid eyes on his best friend, he’d forgotten the cruel words he had said, the reason Cas was here in Maine instead of home.

“Okay I deserve that. I’m really sorry about what I said- “

“You told him he was why everything went wrong.” Anael interrupted. “He said something always goes wrong and you said that something was him.”

It felt like Dean was drowning in icy water. He couldn’t breathe, his body felt like it had been left out in the cold, and soon he would feel nothing at all. Hearing those words spoken out loud by someone else, had he really been that cruel?

Anael was now standing beside Castiel, still rubbing her sore neck.

“Cas, I’m sorry. I had just lost mom and Jack and Rowena and Chuck made me feel like I never had free wi-“

Anael’s glare was vicious.

“You lost? Castiel lost those people too! He was grieving a son! A son you tried to kill! And you blamed him, when he was broken and grieving too! Castiel lost people but he was never cruel, but it’s okay that you were cruel to him because you were sad? Fuck you Winchester”

Cas took Anael’s hand in his own, as if to calm her, and Dean stared at their clasped hands suddenly lost. He really had been cruel to Cas, and he was realizing that ‘sorry I don’t know how to cope’ wasn’t going to cut it this time. And here Cas was, standing hand-in-hand with a random angel, telling said random angel about his life. Dean felt himself losing a grip on the situation, suddenly unsure how to proceed. He just wanted things back to the way they were, and was starting to think that might not be possible.

“Did Sam tell you where we were?”

_We? _Sam knew about Cas’s sudden angel friendship?

“Uh, no. I uh, hacked his phone.” Dean replied forcing his eyes away from the clasped hands.

Cas rubbed his hand over his face, but Dean heard the muffled “Of course you did” behind his hand anyway. Cas looked at Dean, suddenly tired, but still wary. “I guess we should talk.”

Dean sighed in relief. They were going to talk. They could solve this. They’d been through so much together, they would survive this too.

Dean looked at Anael expectantly, trying to wish her away so he could speak to Cas alone. Instead she stared back at him, studying him. She whispered something in Castiel’s ear, who nodded in reply before giving her hand a comforting squeeze. Dean’s chest tightened at the action.

“Meet me at the diner in town.”

Dean frowned disappointed that he wouldn’t be alone in a private place to talk.

“We could just take the Impala and ride together-“

“Meet me there.” Cas said firmly, leaving no room for argument. It wasn’t a hopeful sign.

Dean reluctantly left the house to get in his car, all too aware that Cas stayed behind to talk to Anael alone.

* * *

Dean didn’t leave the car until Cas’s Volkswagen pulled into the lot. He got out and headed to Cas, and trying for casual said, “There’s something weird going on with this town. All the townspeople are like super intense and angry.”

Cas didn’t even look at him, he merely replied “They’re good people,” and pushed open the diner door.

The patrons who had accosted Dean earlier were no longer there, but it was the same waitress at the counter as before. She looked at Castiel and brightened with a genuine smile.

“Hiya Castiel!”

“Hello Greta,” Cas greeted politely, “Could we have a booth please?”

Greta finally seemed to notice Dean standing next to Cas, and her face hardened.

“Sure thing, Castiel. Right this way.” Her voice was kind but her eyes were shooting daggers at Dean.

Dean simply followed Cas to a booth and slipped in on the other side of him. Greta handed Cas a menu with a smile, and basically threw Dean’s at him with a glare.

“I’ll be back in a minute to take your order Castiel”

Cas turned his blue eyes to her and smiled.

“Thank you Greta”

Greta blushed a violent pink and nodded before quickly escaping. Dean couldn’t blame her, even without knowing what he was, Cas just seemed ethereal, like he poured out sunshine when he smiled. How Dean wished he could feel that smile directed at him, feel the sunshine warm him. But Cas was effectively ignoring Dean, instead browsing through a menu Dean was positive he had memorized.

Dean opened his mouth to something, anything to relieve the tension in the air, when there was suddenly a man standing by their table glowering at him.

Dean sighed, “What now?”

At Dean’s exasperated tone, Cas finally looked up, catching sight of the man.

“Oh, hello Rupert.” Cas greeted.

The man gave Cas a soft look.

“How ya’ doin’ Castiel? This man bothering you?” his glare returned to Dean, who held his hands up in surrender.

“It’s okay Rupert, we’re just having lunch and then he’s going.” Dean felt a pang at that, but Rupert seemed satisfied and nodded.

“You let me know if you or the lady need anything, al’ight?

“Of course, thank you Rupert.”

Rupert smiled shyly at Cas, before giving Dean one last warning look, and then returning to his own table.

_Was everyone in this town in love with Cas?_ And what was their beef with him?

“What the fuck was that about?” asked Dean, waving his hand at the retreating back.

Cas tilted his head looking confused. Jesus Christ Dean missed the head tilt. He just missed Cas so fucking much, all those little things about him.

“What the fuck is up with the townsfolk wanting me dead?”

Castiel frowned.

“They don’t want you dead, they’re just,” Cas hesitated, “protective I believe.”

“Protective?” Dean was missing something here.

Cas sighed, “Yes, it’s a small town, and they see Anael and I as one of their own, and once they discovered what we were-“

“Wait” Dean held up a hand to pause Cas midsentence, “They know who you are?”

Cas huffed, aggravated at being interrupted. Dean internally winced and made a mental note not to interrupt again, he was already in Castiel’s bad books, he didn’t want to make it any worse for himself.

“Yes, they know who we are. There is a woman in town who has the sight and knew immediately we were angels. She also sensed we were here to live quietly and peacefully.” Cas explained, “The people know that because of what we are, people or things would come trying to kill us. So yes, I believe they are just protective.”

Dean was momentarily thrown by Cas’s use of ‘we’ and ‘us’, still unable to wrap his head around the idea that Cas had been living with Anael for three months.

“Okay, but they knew my name. How could they possibly know that?”

Cas looked slightly embarrassed.

“When Sam found me, we had a couple of uh, loud conversations.” Cas gazed out the window, avoiding eye contact. “We may have mentioned you in those conversations.”

Dean felt ill. Oh god. The whole town knew. They knew what he had done, what he had said to Cas, and _they hated him for it. _And Dean didn’t blame them. Hell, he hated himself for it too. _Cas must hate me too._ The thought spiked fear into his heart, and he didn’t want to talk through what he said anymore. He just wanted to sit here, across from Cas, hearing his voice.

Suddenly eager to change the topic, Dean asked, “So what’s with the angel roommate?”

It must have been the wrong question to ask because Cas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked up at the arrival of the waitress, grateful for the reprieve.

“What can I get ya’ Castiel?”

“We’ll have two of the House Burgers, and two of your coffees please.”

“We’ll get right on it”

“Thank you Greta.”

This time Greta was too distracted by Castiel’s smile to even bother to glare at Dean when she walked away.

When Cas looked back at him, Dean raised both his eyebrows in an expression that said, ‘go on’.

Cas sighed, sounding tired.

“After I- after I left,” and there went Dean’s chest again, constricting painfully. _After you left home. After you left me._

“After I left the bunker,” Cas continued, unaware of the pain in Dean’s chest. “I traveled for a while, going on hunts when I found them. But it was becoming increasingly clear that my powers were failing, and in a few weeks, I was very nearly human.

I was working a case outside of Chicago when I ran into Anael. I discovered that her powers had failed her too, and she was trying to adjust to a human lifestyle. We were both powerless, no family, no home” Dean opened his mouth quickly to say _You have a family, we’re your family, I’m your family. Your home is with me. _But Cas stopped him with a hand.

“Don’t” he said forcefully, as if knowing what Dean was going to say.

“I’m not family to you, I don’t think I ever was.”

Dean felt like he was going to throw up. How could Cas think-?

“Cas I-“

“No, don’t” Cas’s eyes were hard. “I swear to god Dean if you say another word, I will walk out of this diner right now.”

Dean closed his mouth, but his heart was aching, and he longed to touch Cas. Wrap his arms around him and assure him that he’s family. He was always family.

Cas nodded, assured that Dean would remain silent.

“Anyway, Anael and I found ourselves in similar circumstances, with similar desires.”

Dean winced at the word ‘desires’.

“We decided that if we were to be human, then we should be _human._ Live a human life, settle down, buy a house, start a family. We understood each other, so it made sense that we would do it together. So we found a small town without any mysterious deaths, and found ourselves here. The town has welcomed us with open arms, and it’s been,” Cas paused, trying to find the right word, “It’s been nice.”

Dean’s mind was in turmoil. _Cas was basically human? Cas wanted to build a life, a life without Dean. A life with some random con-artist angel? Cas thought it was ‘nice’?_

“How were you able to afford it?” is what Dean manages to blurt out, because he’s an idiot.

“Anael had some money saved up from her work-“

“As a con-artist you mean.”

Cas looked at Dean disapprovingly.

“Dean, you hustle pool to make extra cash. Your life is to con people.”

Okay, fair point.

“Anael had some money saved and I had some money that I had been saving for Jack,”

Another pain stabbed at Dean’s chest.

“But since he- Now that he’s- He’s gone, so I used it to help buy the house. And now I work at the library at the local school, and it pays the bills. It’s a life. A life I built, and it’s a good one.”

Cas stared at Dean head on, unflinching. Dean on the other hand felt suddenly hollow.

“So what, now you’re going to live an apple pie life with your wife and your white picket fence and 2.5 kids?” Dean ground out, unable to keep the anger out of his voice.

Cas looked away at that and didn’t answer.

Dean choked. “Seriously Cas? You going to marry Anael? You guys can’t even have kids-“

At this moment the waitress had returned with the food, and had caught the last word Dean had said.

“Kids? Oh, Castiel did the adoption go through?” Greta asked, sounding delighted.

Cas fumbled his cup, spilling its contents on the table. Dean didn’t seem to notice, too busy feeling his heart shatter into a thousand jagged pieces at the word ‘adoption’. This was real. Cas had moved on and now he was going to have a wife and kids and the apple pie life _without Dean_. Dean had never believed the songs about heartbreak, assuming they were dramatic for the effect, because surely there were worse things then heartbreak. He had been so, so wrong. Dean’s chest ached like he could feel each individual shard of his heart. It hurt to breathe and oh god it just _hurt._

The waitress glanced between the two of them and seemed to realize her mistake. She glanced at Dean who’s world was currently ending, and she looked almost sympathetic.

“I’m just going to, um, go” and she hurried away.

Cas looked at Dean, and Dean stared back unable to do anything. Cas must have seen some of the shock and betrayal in his eyes, because Cas narrowed his own eyes and peered out the window as he said bitterly, “You said I was dead to you. It was time for me to move on, and I have.” Could you have internal bleeding from a broken heart?

Cas turned to stare at Dean, unblinking,

“I’m happy Dean. Really happy. I have a life and a family, and I’m happy. Do you understand?”

Those songs didn’t even come close to describing the pain of heartbreak. Dean’s heart was shattered, and he was sure it was killing him.

Dean nodded shakily at Cas. Yes, he understood. Cas was happy and he didn’t want Dean. Didn’t _need_ Dean. Cas was happy and Dean was fucking it up for him. Because that’s what Dean did, he fucked up everything.

He should have never come. He thought he was upset before, but this? This right here? This was going to break him. He wasn’t going to survive this.

Cas finished his meal silently, but Dean couldn’t eat. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t eaten in two days, he had no appetite. Instead he felt nauseous. Dean sat there frozen, as Cas put some bills on the table, took one final look at Dean, and walked out of the diner.

Dean sat in that booth for another hour, staring at nothing, feeling his heart shatter repeatedly. He suddenly shot up, looking determined. He walked right out of the diner and yanked the door open to the car, quickly scooting inside. He frantically searched for his phone, crying out in victory when he found it. He turned it on, and winced. Okay, a lot of missed calls from Sam, that’s fine.

Dean dialed.

_“Hello? Dean?”_

“Hey Sam-“

_“Where the hell have you been Dean? I’ve tried calling you the last two days! Where the hell are you Dean?”_

Dean brushed past Sam’s questions; he was on a mission.

“Sam what do you know about love spells?”

The line was silent for a moment, before Sam, with deadly calm, asked,

_“Dean, tell me where you are”_

Dean ignored the question.

“They probably couldn’t affect angels right? But what if it was a powered down angel? It would probably work then.”

Because that had to be it. Cas had to be under the influence of a love potion. Why else would he abandon the fight, abandon _his family_, unless it was magic. Anael was a con-artist. She’s probably playing him.

_“Dean, did you go to see Cas?”_

“Yeah, thanks a lot asshole for telling me how Cas is shacked up with some random angel and fucking _Maine_ of all places. But really this town is so weird, and you should hear him go on about white picket fences and building a family, and _adoption_ for Christ’s sake!”

“_I know”_

“He definitely under some sort of hoodoo- wait what? You know about him wanting to adopt?”

There was quiet, and then a soft reply,

_“I wrote him a reference letter.”_

And suddenly his heart was shattering all over again. Sam knew. Sam knew Cas had moved on. Sam _helped_ Cas move on. And he didn’t tell Dean.

It was suddenly real. He lost Cas. He drove Cas away, and now he was never coming back. He would be coming home to someone else now. His smiles would never grace Dean with their sunshine again. Only Anael would receive those smiles now. Anael and their kids, and this stupid fucking town-

A sob escaped his chest just then.

_“Dean?” _Sam called his name frantically, _“Dean? Dean! Listen, Dean-“_

Dean hung up and threw his phone in the passenger’s seat. It was too much, he needed this feeling to go away, he needed to _hit _something. But for the first time, Dean didn’t punch anything to cope. For the first time, Dean Winchester sat down and cried instead.

* * *

Dean had cried until his eyes were puffy and red. He cried until there weren’t any tears left. And still he cried. He ignored Sam’s seven calls, and instead drove to a motel outside of town, where he promptly fell asleep for ten hours.

He woke up the next day feeling raw, like a live wire, ready to burst into flames and take the whole world with it. But he put his clothes on and he brushed his teeth. He went back to the car and drove back to town. He stopped at a coffeeshop, that just happened to be across from the library. He drank his coffee and listened as the townsfolk gushed to each other about the two angels and my didn’t they make a nice couple.

And suddenly there they were, across the street, walking hand-in-hand. They did look cute together, Dean admitted. Then Cas said something to Anael and she threw her head back and laughed. And Cas smiled at her, bathing her in sunlight.

His phone clicked as it took a picture. He then put it in his pocket and left the coffeeshop, returning to his car. He drove out of town.

Cas was happy, and in the end, nothing but that mattered. Dean wanted Cas back, but he wanted Cas to be happy, because no one deserved it more than Cas, especially not Dean. Yes, Dean would let Cas move on and be happy, even if ended up killing Dean. The shattered pieces of his heart stabbed at his lungs as he took a deep breath. And this would surely kill Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry if you live in Maine. As I'm sure you can tell from the story, I've never been. It was just the first place that popped into my head.  
So one more chapter left! The last chapter will see the return of Jack and I'm pretty sure I promised groveling Dean at some point. The last chapter should be posted sometime later in the week so keep an ear out.
> 
> (Comments always appreciated)


	3. Give Me Happiness, and Give me Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's back and he reveals the truth behind Castiel's deal with the Empty. When the three go to save Cas will they be too late? Does Cas even want to be saved?   
Dean's not willing to lose Cas again, but he's going to have to use his words if he wants Castiel back.

It took Dean three days to return to the bunker. Usually his coping mechanism after dealing with the shitty deals life dealt him was to find the nearest bar, and drink until he couldn’t feel. But at this moment, the thought of walking into a bar with a bunch of strangers seemed like a torture he couldn’t handle. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, make polite conversation like he wasn’t quietly crumbling to dust inside.

He stopped at the nearest drive-thru after leaving Maine, figuring that he should actually eat something. That sandwich lasted thirty-minutes before he pulled off the side of the road and threw it up. Dean couldn’t keep anything down, everything made him nauseous.

He pulled into a motel that night, rather than drive straight through. Why rush, after all? But he couldn’t sleep, not when hot tears spilled from his eyes.

Funny, he didn’t think he had any tears left.

He was wrong.

When morning dawned, Dean didn’t leave the motel room. He didn’t leave the motel for two more days.

The second night Dean had returned to his familiar comfort of anger, trashing the motel room like some shitty wannabe rockstar. He also left several holes in the crappy burnt orange walls of the room. It was a miracle no one called the cops on him. Well not miracle.

The last night, Dean stared at the ceiling. His heart was still in pieces, but Dean’s body and mind seemed to slowly be numbing over. It made sense, because Dean was positive he may never be able to feel again. How can someone feel when their heart was in pieces?

So Dean left, because what else was there to do? Might as well just go through the motions. That much he could do at least.

Dean finally returned to the bunker, not bothering to be quiet as he swung the door open and descended the stairs. Sam must have heard the commotion, because he came sprinting into the room, not bothering to breathe before he was rapidly blurting out questions.

“What the hell Dean? I’ve been trying to reach you for three days! What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you-“

Sam abruptly shut his mouth with an audible click when he caught sight of Dean’s face. Dean didn’t know what he looked like, but it must not have been pretty because Sam didn’t say another word, instead pulling his big brother into a smothering hug. Dean couldn’t bring himself to return it.

* * *

Sam walked on eggshells around Dean for the next two weeks, often staring at him intently while on edge, like he was on high-alert. Dean finally figured out that Sam was waiting for Dean to explode like the emotional ticking time bomb he usually was. But Sam was waiting in vain, Dean was subdued. He answered the phones, researched lore, and laid in bed. Sam was honestly more terrified of this Dean than angry Dean.

By week three Sam had had enough.

“Pack your crap. We’re going on a hunt.” Sam said, tossing a bag at Dean.

Sam expected Dean to either argue, or jump at the chance of distraction. Dean merely nodded and began packing his things.

_Yes a hunt’s perfect. Dean just needs a little adrenaline and to get back into the swing of things. _Sam thought, _there’s nothing quite as distracting as lobbing off a vampire’s head._

One vampire actually turned out to be a large nest of vampires. It took three hours to take out all the vamps, and when the last one finally bit the dust, Sam’s joints were screaming at him.

Dean had taken out more than half the vamps himself, and Sam was hoping that Dean had been able to vent out some of his emotions chopping off fanged heads, but despite his impressive skill with the machete, Dean merely wiped the bloody blade on the ground and walked, not unlike a zombie, back to the car.

Sam trailed after his brother worried.

They piled their weapons in the back of the trunk, before slamming it closed. Sam turned to get in the passenger seat, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Sam turned, surprised. Dean looked at him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks Sammy. This was the perfect distraction. I already feel better.”

Despite it being the worst lie he’d ever heard Dean tell, Dean did get better. At least he kept up the appearance of being better.

Dean was more active, seeking out hunts and making homemade dinners. To anyone else, he would seem like normal Dean. Sam knew better.

Dean was on autopilot most of the time. Going through the motions, but most of the time he didn’t even seem to be there. Sam caught Dean on several occasions staring at something on his phone. Sometimes his face would be contorted with emotion, and on occasion he looked at his phone with a wistful smile. Sam hadn’t been able to catch a glance at what was on the phone, but he had a solid guess.

* * *

Dean considered deleting the picture a million times, but every time his thumb hovered over the delete button, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when this was all he could have. This grainy picture of Cas. No camera could capture the essence of Cas that shone through those blue eyes, but he was still the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen, even in pixels. Cas was smiling brightly at Anael, the perfect couple. Dean looked at the picture to remind himself that Cas was happy. Cas was happy and that was enough. Had to be enough.

More often than not Dean looked at the picture to torture himself.

_See how much happier he is without you? He doesn’t need you, doesn’t want you._

_This could have been you he was smiling at, but you drove him away. You treated him like shit, and he’s gone. You deserve this. You break everything you touch._

But every once in a while, Dean would pull up the picture and pretend he was the one holding Cas’s hand. He was the one causing Castiel to smile. And Dean would smile back at him. When Dean was feeling particularly vindictive against himself, he imagined him and Cas together, and they were happy.

* * *

About a month after the vampire nest, Dean and Sam sat at a table in the library researching a rugaru hybrid for a hunter named Dennis, when Sam suddenly grabbed his shoulder and keeled over in pain.

Dean was at his brother’s side the next second.

“Sam? Sammy? What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

Sam sucked in a breath and shakily sat back up, giving Dean a placating gesture.

“I’m fine, it’s over. It’s over now.”

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, eyes sweeping over Sam like he could find the root of his pain.

“It’s the bullet wound from the god gun.”

“Well why is it hurting now?”

Sam shrugged.

“I-I think it connects me to Chuck”

Is it possible to look scared and furious? Dean seemed to manage it well enough.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, but I think I can sense him? But Dean- I think he’s up to something, something big”

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by an explosion of light.

Sam and Dean winced, covering their eyes until the light dimmed and their eyes didn’t feel like they were being burned out of their skull.

Dean blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. He could make out two blurry figures in the middle of the room. Dean’s hand automatically twitched for the revolver under the table, but stilled when he heard a familiar voice.

“You’re right Sam. Chuck is up to something that will tip the cosmic scale out of balance forever. He needs to be stopped.”

“Well why don’t you stop him?” Dean barked. If anyone could beat god it had to be death right?

Billie sighed like the answer should be obvious.

“I can’t kill. Cosmic rules. I merely reap the souls after.”

Dean snorted. That seemed like bullshit.

Dean squinted, trying to get a better view of Death, but his eyes were still adjusting.

“So what do you want us do?” he heard Sam ask at his side.

“I want you to stop him.” Billie repeated.

“Yeah and how exactly are we supposed to do that? You have an extra god-killing gun laying around?”

Dean could hear the smile in Billie’s reply.

“No, but I did bring you a gift to help you.”

And with that Dean’s vision suddenly cleared and Dean choked, legs nearly giving out. Billie was gone, but there standing in the middle of the room, shining like a newborn star, was-

“Jack” Sam cried out.

Jack smiled at them, and Dean felt his heart swell with happiness for the first time in months. It had always fascinated Dean how someone could exude innocence and childlike wonder in a smile, but Jack managed it.

“Hi Sam. Dean”

And then Dean was marching intently towards Jack, a determined look on his face.

“Dean!” Sam reached out to grab his brother, remembering Dean’s anger at the Nephilim before he died.

Dean nearly an inch away from Jack, an inscrutable look in his face.

Jack merely stared back with a small smile that spoke of forgiveness.

A sob suddenly escaped Dean, and then he was throwing his arms around Jack, pulling him in to a fierce hug. Jack hugged back just as tightly, and suddenly no words were needed. They knew what the other meant.

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’m so happy to see you. I missed you._

“It’s good to have you back kid.” Dean rasped as he pulled away, hands wiping his wet eyes.

And then Sam was hugging Jack and sobbing. The loss of Jack had been particularly hard on Sam, and Dean was content to let them have their moment.

Jack was alive. Their _son_ was alive. Dean felt something like happiness trying to form in his chest.

“Where’s Castiel?” Jack asked suddenly, and just like that Dean’s chest concaved again.

Jack was looking around, searching for his other father.

“Is he in the bunker? Or is he out on a hunt?”

There was an uncomfortable silence as Jack looked imploringly at Sam and Dean, who were both doing their best to look anywhere else.

Sam finally broke the tension by awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Um, well, uh- he”

“He’s gone” Dean finished, tone harsh and abrupt despite the aching in his chest.

Jack’s eyes widened.

“Castiel’s dead?”

_You’re dead to me._

“No!” Sam assured him. “No he’s just-“

“He left.” Dean couldn’t meet Jacks eyes. Not when he tilted his head in question so Cas-like. For not being his real biological son, Jack sure did inherit a lot of Cas’s mannerisms.

“Well where did he go?”

Apparently he had also inherited Cas’s inability to read between the lines.

“Maine.” Sam offered.

Jack still looked confused. And what was Dean supposed to say? ‘I told your dad that he was the reason everything always went wrong. I treated him like a punching bag, and he left. Sorry?’. But Jack was looking at him with earnest eyes, and Dean owed him the truth.

So Dean told him. He told him about that last fight, where Dean had put the final nail in the coffin that was their relationship with Cas. Dean told Jack about finding Cas months later in Maine. He told him about the life Cas had built.

Jack listened quietly, emotions flitting across his face, but he never interrupted.

“And so now he’s living the apple pie life. Shacked up with some girl,” Dean couldn’t keep the bitterness from leaking into his voice, “playing house, thinking about kids and everything.”

Dean sighed, suddenly resigned and tired, “And he’s happy. Really, truly happy. So I’m- glad- that he’s- happy.”

Dean glanced up at Jack’s face, expecting a multitude of emotions. Betrayal, perhaps, at Cas moving on with a new family and new kids. Satisfied, maybe, that Cas had finally found happiness.

The one emotion Dean never expected to see in his face was fear. And that’s what Jack looked like. His face had gone pale, his eyes wide, and frightened, his brow creased. Jack heard that Castiel was living a life happily in Maine, and he looked fucking terrified.

“Castiel’s happy? For how long? How long has he been living in Maine? How long has he been happy?” Jack asked frantically.

Confusion, and a tendril of dread, entered Dean’s head as he listened to the panic in Jack’s voice.

Why did it matter that Cas was happy? Why would that knowledge terrify Jack so greatly?

“We have to go.” Said Jack suddenly. “We need to leave right now! I just hope we’re not too late.” Jack muttered the last part to himself.

“Too late? What do you mean too late? Jack!”

But Jack ignored the pleading questions from the brothers, instead nearly running towards the garage.

Dean and Sam ran after him, pausing when Jack found the impala and slid into the backseat. The brothers exchanged a confused look with each other.

“Get in! We have to go!” Jack yelled out the impala window.

Sam merely shrugged at Dean before obediently opening up the passenger door. Dean placed himself into the driver’s seat, but made no move to turn on the car.

“Dean! Let’s go!” Jack ordered, his voice high with panic.

“No.” Dean replied in a calm but hard voice.

Sam and Jack both looked at him in shock.

Dean turned to stare at Jack.

“We are not going anywhere until you tell us what the fuck is going on! Is Cas in some kind of trouble?”

Jack stared back at Dean, considering. After a few moments he turned his head away and sighed.

“I promised Castiel I wouldn’t tell you,” Dean’s heart lurched at that. “But I think he will understand why it’s necessary now.”

Dean and Sam looked at Jack expectantly.

Jack turned back to them, his expression determined.

“I will tell you everything once we are on the way to Castiel.”

And with that, Dean turned the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life, and peeled out of the bunker’s garage.

* * *

Jack didn’t say anything for the first few miles. Dean kept glancing at him through the rearview mirror, and Jack seemed to be contemplative, as if gathering together his thoughts.

Sam finally broke his reverie with a not-at-all subtle cough.

Jack winced at the sound, before sighing in resignation.

“So remember when I died? Well, the first time I died I mean?”

Now it was Sam and Dean’s turn to wince. Even having Jack back now, it was still painful to think of the times when they had lost him.

Jack waited for them to nod in confirmation before continuing.

“Well, when I was in heaven, I was being hunted by this entity called the Empty”

Dean’s knuckles turned white as he hardened his grip on the steering wheel. He remembered Cas talking about the Empty, the place where angels go where they die. The place Cas had escaped from to return to him-them.

“The empty thought since I was half-angel that I was its property. It was destroying heaven in order to get to me. Castiel and the Empty found me at the same time, and the Empty did NOT like Castiel at all. It was glad that taking me would make Castiel suffered. Castiel knew that the Empty wanted him more than anything, so he decided to make a deal.”

Dean felt the blood drain out of his face, and he knew if he were to look over at Sam, there would be a similar expression on his face.

_A deal. Of fucking course. How can Cas not think himself family when making a deal was such a fucking Winchester move._

“Castiel offered himself to the Empty to spare me, and the Empty agreed.”

Dean was horrified. Castiel spoke of the Empty with fear. The Empty was an expanse of nothingness, an eternal emptiness. It was worse than death. It was worse than hell. And Cas had offered himself up oh so willingly to that fate if it would save his son. Dean felt like crying. Dean didn’t deserve Cas. No one deserved the selfless, idiotic, stupid, kind, _beautiful_ essence that was Castiel. His heart was always too big. It would be his undoing. As was the Winchester way.

“Wait,” Sam interrupted, sounding confused. “If Cas made a deal with the Empty to exchange places, why is he still here?”

Jack’s eyes were somber as he answered.

“The Empty accepted the deal but said it would not take him right away. The Empty wanted Castiel to suffer. It said it would wait until” Jack hesitated. “It said it would wait until he was happy. Once Castiel was happy, the Empty would come for him.”

Dean nearly crashed the car. His hands jerked and the car swerved into the other lane. Dean gained control of the steering wheel back, but his gaze was slightly crazed, and the speedometer went up dangerously.

Dean was lost inside his head, a million thoughts battling for dominance.

_Castiel you stupid fucking angel- Why would he make that deal? Why was he living this apple pie life when it would kill him? Would the Empty have taken Cas if he had stayed with the Winchesters? Was Cas ever happy with them? Did Dean want Castiel to be happy when he was with them? If it meant losing Cas? He can’t lose Cas. Not again. Not like this. Why wouldn’t he tell them? Why wouldn’t he tell Dean?_

Dean was angry. And heartbroken. And confused. He was an entire spectrum of emotions, but one thought was clear, and it was the thought that drove Dean forward.

_I have to find Cas._

* * *

This time the drive only took twenty hours and the breaking of every single traffic law in existence. Sam and Jack were too silent with worry to note Dean’s insane driving. Everyone in that car loved Castiel, and the thought of being too late, of getting to Maine and finding Cas gone, was too much for anyone to bear.

Sam had tried to call Castiel immediately after hearing Jack’s tale, but the phone went straight to voicemail. So did the twenty other phone calls Sam made.

Jack spent the drive in a confused daze. He was happy to be back with Sam and Dean, to be alive and with a soul, but was being alive even worth it if his father was dead? Jack glanced at Dean, noting the glazed far away look in his eyes. If Castiel died, Jack would lose more than one father. Jack would lose Dean too.

Dean entered the town and couldn’t even spare a thought towards the unwelcoming residents. He had only one destination in mind. When they pulled up the driveway, Dean’s chest throbbed, and each breath he took hurt, his lungs pierced by the shattered pieces of his heart. Dean had been so concerned on the drive over that he had temporarily forgotten the heartbreak that had occurred last time he was here. Dean was suddenly nervous, and a new fear spiked in his chest.

Would they knock on that door and find a happy family on the other side? Would there be a child in those strong arms now? Dean glanced at the porch as he slammed the impala door shut. Now it was too easy to imagine that it was Cas and Anael sitting on those chairs, sipping their morning coffee as they lovingly began their day together. The garden that had barely begun to sprout last time was already blooming with colorful flowers and veggies. Dean hoped it wasn’t a metaphor.

Dean hesitated at the door, his stomach in knots. Jack, on the other hand, had no such qualms and quickly pounded on the door.

Dean’s breath caught as the doorknob wiggled, then cracked open.

Anael stared out through the partially open door, eyes immediately landing on Dean. She glared then made a move to probably slam the door in their face when she finally noticed Jack. Her eyes widened and she stepped away, letting the door naturally open to reveal the inside.

“You better come in.” She said, her voice echoing her disbelief.

Jack and Sam didn’t hesitate to step through the threshold, but Dean’s world was in turmoil. It was like stepping into hell. No, this was worse than hell.

Not knowing what awaited him on the other side but knowing every option would shatter his already shattered heart, Dean entered the house.

It looked pretty much the same as the last time Dean had been in here, if not a little more lived in. Although granted, Dean was a little too distracted last time to really look around.

There weren’t any pictures on the wall like there would be in most homes with happy families, but Dean did note a bookshelf that was nearly full, as well as some other books scattered around the room haphazardly. There was also a set of knitting needles that looked to be making maybe a scarf, with an ugly green wool yarn. Dean briefly wondered if they belonged to Cas or

Anael. Dean would bet it was Cas’s. Only Cas would have such hideous taste in yarn, Dean thought fondly.

Anael was still staring at Jack, now with an inscrutable expression. Eyes never leaving the young man’s, she tilted her head towards a room in the back of the house and shouted,

“Castiel! You better come here.”

Dean’s whole body froze as he heard the footsteps coming closer, and a familiar deep voice mumble,

“Oh is it the Patterson’s? Tell Diana I loved the apple turnover she made yest-“

Castiel stopped at the hall entrance, finally spotting the guests.

Dean couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Cas was wearing a soft blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Dirt covered his forearms and the knees of his faded jeans. His hair was longer, and it was wild and windswept, reminding Dean of when he first met Cas and he would always have that eternal bed-head.

_He must have just been gardening. _Dean thought as another thought simultaneously said, _I love him._

The thought shook Dean to his very core, reverberated through every corner of his body, before settling warm in his chest. Yes, he loved Cas, loved him longer than Dean could remember. He had always known, deep down, but now that he finally allowed himself to think it, he was struck with the crushing reality that Cas wasn’t his. Castiel didn’t love him. Castiel _hated_ him. Deans legs trembled.

Castiel on the other hand had barely spared Dean a look, he was too focused on the image of his resurrected son. And then they were hugging each other, each sobbing in relief. Tears pricked at Dean’s eyes as he watched the reunion, and he belatedly realized that next to him Sam was also unabashedly crying, and even Anael had tears streaming down her face.

For a second, just a second, Dean’s heart felt whole. His family was together. They should always be together like this, United, them against the world.

Anael politely interrupted Jack and Castiel’s embrace, putting her hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Cas turned to look at her with wet eyes, and she smiled kindly.

“I think I’m going to head out for a while, run a few errands.” She gestured towards the door.

Cas nodded in silent appreciation, and Anael smiled softly at him again before stepping around the brothers and making her exit.

Father and son remained there in the middle of the room for some time before they let each other go.

Jack sniffed.

“I was so worried. When Sam and Dean said how happy you were. I was worried Billie had brought me back, but it was too late. I worried you were gone.”

Cas looked at him with confusion before his face cleared in understanding.

“Oh.” Is all Cas could manage.

_Oh? That’s it? Oh?_

Jack shook his head as if confused.

“I don’t understand Castiel. If you’re happy, then why-“

Cas coughed uncomfortably, his eyes finally finding the brothers.

“Perhaps we should discuss this privately.” Cas was talking to Jack, but the meaning was clear. Cas wanted to speak alone to Jack. He wanted Sam and Dean to leave while they talked.

Sam nodded his head in understanding and managed a quiet “Of course” as Dean simultaneously said loudly and resolutely. “No.”

Everyone turned to look at Dean. Sam’s face said ‘what the fuck Dean’. Cas looked exasperated but not surprised. Jack mainly looked confused, unaware of the tension that permeated the room.

Dean didn’t care. Somehow, he knew, he knew that he needed to hear Castiel’s reply. That his entire being depended on what Castiel said next.

Castiel sighed resigned, and was careful to never let his gaze meet Dean’s as he spoke.

“After Chuck had- after you died, I was lost. I suddenly had no powers, no purpose, no home, no family,”

Did that whimper come from Dean?

“I spent a while wandering around,” Castiel ignored the noise, “searching for a purpose, for anything. But I gave up.

“I was tired and broken. I summoned the Empty and begged for it to take me then.”

Yep, it was definitely Dean that was making those whimpering noises.

“The Empty merely laughed in my face. ‘Why would I do that?’ it had asked, ‘When here you are suffering so satisfyingly. I told you, I won’t take you until you’re happy’.

“I was convinced that I was doomed to live forever then, and the thought of spending an eternity alive and miserable, I couldn’t bare it. I didn’t want to live forever.

“I ran into Anael who was desperate to live an authentic human life. She also craved the best aspects humanity has to offer. Love. Family.

“I explained my situation to her, and we agreed on a kind of deal. I’d rather spend one human lifetime finding happiness than be immortal and unhappy. She wanted a human life. She didn’t mind spending that human life with me, searching for happiness with me.

“And here we are.” Cas finished; voice thick with emotion. And Dean-

And Dean was- What was Dean? Overwhelmed. Guilty. Regretful. Sad. Angry. Heartbroken.

It was too much. Dean couldn’t handle this anymore, couldn’t handle anything.

His ears ringing, his vision blurred, Dean turned around and walked out.

Dean found himself in the garden next to a tomato plant, not quite sure how he got there. He just needed some fresh air. He couldn’t breathe.

Cas had essentially tried to kill himself. Because Dean forced him out. Dean was cruel and vicious after Castiel’s _son had died, _leaving Cas with nothing. Cas tried to go to the_ Empty _because he was so alone and miserable, _and it was Dean’s fault_. Cas wanted to die, so he went out to find a wife, make a new family, find happiness so he could _die._ Dean didn’t give him happiness, so he went somewhere else to find it. Even though it would kill him. _Because_ it would ‘kill him.

And just how close was that? Dean wondered. Cas seemed content here. How many more years before he would have been taken? Or would it have been merely months? Weeks? Days? How close had he come to losing Cas again. Losing him forever? But they got to him in time. Because they got Jack back. _Jack was back_.

A weight that had been crushing Dean since Cas had spoken was suddenly gone.

Jack was back, and now Cas would come back. Castiel wouldn’t stay here, living this happy life, not when his son was out there alive. Cas would come back and he would be in Dean’s life again. Maybe he wouldn’t forgive Dean right away, but he would still be there. Dean would have time. He would have time to get back in Castiel’s good graces, have time to build their relationship back up. And there would always be another big bad, some chaos in their life that would assure Cas would never be completely content. But Dean would make him happy in every other way. He would make sure Cas felt loved and belonged. He would build Cas a greenhouse. Buy him a million things of yarn so he could knit crappy scarves. He would make Cas feel love and cherished.

And Dean knew they had a long way to go. But he didn’t care. Cas would come home for Jack, and he would be in Dean’s life. They would have time. They would find their way back to each other again.

Dean could feel his heart stitching itself back together at the thought. This was the second time Jack had brought Castiel back to Dean, and if Dean didn’t already love the kid, he would now.

Dean spent the next hour in the garden, admiring the fruits of Castiel’s labors. He figured Cas would need time to catch up with Sam and Jack. And of course he would need to pack. Probably inform Anael he was leaving. Dean scowled at the thought of the pretty angel. Even though Anael actually seemed decent, he couldn’t help the intense jealousy of her living this life with Cas when it should have been Dean. But soon it would be.

Soon Cas would stroll out that door with Sam and Jack and climb into the backseat of the impala. It would be an awkward car ride home for sure, but Cas will be there with his blue eyes and the smell of Cas that Dean could no longer find in the bunker, despite maybe spending several nights in Castiel’s room, trying to smell any trace of the angel.

When the door finally opened, Dean quickly stood to his feet, expecting to see Cas carrying a duffle with his possessions.

Sam came out first, wiping his eyes but with a small soft smile on his face. Jack followed next looking youthful and content. And then- nothing.

Dean continued to stare at the front door, but no third person followed. No unkempt dark hair came after Jack’s sandy blonde.

Dean stood there, frozen, eyes still watching, expecting someone else to walk out at any moment. He didn’t even move when Jack and Sam came to the impala, eyes on him expectantly.

“Where’s Cas?” Dean asked, sincerely confused.

Jack’s back, so Cas is coming back. Right?

Sam and Jack exchanged uneasy glances with each other.

“He’s staying.” Sam said slowly, like Dean was a wild animal he was trying to placate. Jack had no such decorum.

“I understand why he’s here, and I want him to be happy. This is his choice. If humans only get so many years, why shouldn’t he? If he is able to get a few years of happiness out of it, isn’t it worth it?” Jack looked imploringly at Dean, like he should recognize the obvious. Sam just looked sympathetic.

“But-“ Dean mumbled, “But you’re back. His son’s back”

Jack nodded, overlooking Dean’s apparent confusion. “I’ll come and visit as often as I can, but I need to stop Chuck, and he doesn’t need to be involved in that.”

Dean continued to stand there, in the dark soil of the garden.

Was there a record for how many times a heart could break? If so, Dean would win by a landslide. It was like someone had grabbed his heart and was squeezing it, crumbling it into dust.

Castiel wasn’t coming with them. Cas was going to stay here for however long he had left. He was going to stay with Anael. He wasn’t coming home.

And Dean knew with certainty that if he walked away now, he would never see Cas again. He knew he should do it, anyway, walk away. Respect Castiel’s wishes and let him live a normal, happy, human life. But Dean was a weak man. Dean was a selfish man. He refused to let this be the last time he saw Cas.

Dean started walking determinedly in the direction of the car. Sam and Jack looked at the car expectantly, hands on the door handles, assuming Dean was going to unlock it so they would leave.

Instead, Dean walked right past them, barely hearing the protests that followed.

He marched right past the impala, onto the porch and opened the door, walking into the house. He quickly shut the door behind him and turned the lock. He ignored the pounding on the door and the repeated jiggling of the door knob, instead turning around and freezing.

Across the room sat Castiel at a table, also frozen in shock, staring at Dean. He appeared to have been in the middle of stirring his tea or coffee, the spoon now frozen half way up, dripping liquid onto the table.

Dean and Cas just stared at each other, green eyes meeting blue. And Dean was maybe panicking a little. He hadn’t planned ahead this far and had no idea what to do.

“Dean?” Cas asked, too shocked to be angry, “What are you-“

“Cas,” Dean whimpered, voice pathetically close to begging, “Cas please.”

Castiel tilted his head, curious, and confused.

Dean knew he had to get this right. If he fucked this up it was over. Forever.

“Cas please, I know I don’t deserve forgiveness, I’m not even asking for it right now. I’m just- Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover- but I am, I’m sorry. I took you for granted. I was grieving and I lashed out at you because I thought you would always be there. It was messed up to expect that from you, to expect that you would just take it. I have regretted those words ever since they left my mouth, they keep me awake every night, and I didn’t mean them. But that doesn’t matter, I still shouldn’t have said them.”

Dean was shit at apologizing and talking through his feelings, but he was trying his best for Cas. The Cas that sat there with an expression that Dean might dare to say resembled hope.

“Please Cas, come back home. To Jack and Sam. To me. You don’t have to forgive me yet, but please,” Dean pleaded, “Please come home. I need you.”

It was the wrong thing to say. The words that so many years ago had broken Castiel out of mind control, now caused his face to shut down. Dean could almost see the walls slamming closed in Cas’s head. Dread coursed through Dean.

“You don’t need me.” Cas said bitterly, eyes on his cup as he returned to stirring. “I’m powerless now, weak, human. And you have Jack now. He’s more powerful than I ever was anyway.”

Dean was confused. Powers? What did that have to do with anything? And then it hit him like a strike of lightning.

_He was so goddam stupid!_ All these years Dean had told Cas he needed him, and Cas thought they needed him because of his angel powers, like he was a tool! Dean thought back and internally cringed. _Fuck_. They had treated him like a tool. Dean especially had criticized Cas.

_Without your powers you’re basically just a baby in a trench coat. No one cares that you’re broken! You were being bad everything. _

Time and time again Dean had demanded things from Cas. Demanded he dropped everything to come and help. Dean remembers when Cas was in the middle of a heavenly war, and Dean had told him that it didn’t matter, that when he said jump, Cas should say how high. And Castiel was an ancient cosmic being who could have easily said no, easily left him for dead. But Cas never abandoned him, no matter how many times Dean probably deserved to be abandoned. Dean had treated him like some loyal guard dog, and he was only now realizing it.

Had Dean ever told Cas how much he meant to him? He remembers that night in the barn, the ‘I love yous’ Cas had uttered. Had he said it back? Had Sam or Mary or even Jack told Cas ‘I love you’? Sure Dean had told him once that they were family, brothers, but did he treat him like it? Dean had used Cas, treated him like a punching bag, never told him how much he mattered, it’s a wonder Cas never left earlier, he certainly had every right to.

And suddenly Dean had to make sure Cas knew. Even if Dean never saw Castiel again, Cas had to know how important he was, how much he meant to Dean, how much he was _loved._

“Listen up you stupid fucking son-of-a-bitch,” Cas’s head shot up, startled, but Dean continued,

“I don’t need you because of your powers. Hell! I don’t care if you’re fucking human or crippled, or whatever! I need you because you always make me smile, even when the world is literally ending. I need you because your faith in me keeps me going, it makes me want to be a better man, the man you see. I need you because no one else has stood by me like you. I need you because you don’t get basic jokes and references. I need you because my favorite moments are forcing you to watch stupid movies and watching you experience them for the first time. I need you because you look for the good in everyone, even the people who don’t deserve it. I need you because you have saved me countless times, in every way imaginable. I need you because you care about Sam and Jack with all your being. I need you because when you smile it’s like seeing the sun for the first time. I need you because you’re selfless, and a better person than any angel or human. I need you because I can’t see the color blue without thinking about you. I need you because you’re family. I need you because you mean everything to me. I need you because I fucking love you. I need you because I’m _in_ love with you.”

Dean is gasping, out of breath from his long tirade. He finally dares to meet Castiel’s eyes, and Castiel looks _gutted_.

He’s staring at Dean, eyes wide, and Dean can’t tell what Cas is feeling right now, but he feels his heart fall every moment that passes in continued silence.

“It would have never worked out anyway.” Cas finally manages to choke out.

And Dean can only stare at Cas with confusion.

“Anael and I,” Cas says, standing up suddenly. “It would have never worked between the two of us.” And Dean can only blink as Cas steps around the table, moving toward him with every word.

“Anael is amazing. She’s smart and intuitive, she’s been an excellent friend. But she would have never made me happy.” Another step. “I knew that but I was going to try anyway. I would spend a lifetime trying to be happy with her. We’d have kids, a home, retirement, but the Empty never would have come.” Step. “Because she would never have made me happy,” Step. “How could she make me happy, when she wasn’t you?”

Dean’s legs buckle under him, overcome with emotion, and he’s suddenly on his knees, hot tears falling from his cheeks to the carpeted floor.

And then Cas is there, standing over him cradling his face in his hand, a mirror of that night in the crypt so many years ago. But Cas’s tone is soft and tender now as he gazes down at Dean.

“Dean Winchester, I have lived thousands of years, before even the birth of humanity. I watched cosmos form. I have seen empires rise and fall. And I felt nothing, _nothing_ until I made the trip to hell and saw your soul.” Dean knows he’s openly sobbing now, raw emotion filtering through his body, too much to handle.

“Dean Winchester, the moment I laid eyes on your soul, I have been yours. You made me human in the best possible ways. I had never lived until you were in my life. You taught me to feel, to think, to believe. You taught me to _love_. And I love you Dean Winchester. I’m _in_ love with you.”

And Dean is weeping, “Please, please Cas. _Castiel_”

Cas is staring down at him lovingly, tears flowing from his eyes as well.

“I am yours Dean Winchester, and you are mine.”

And Dean can only cry out “Yes!” and then Cas is on his knees with him.

Cas slowly kisses Dean’s tears away, worshipping every part of his face. He kisses his eyes, his forehead, his nose. It’s not enough, Dean needs to be closer, be sure that he won’t disappear, and Dean pushes his lips forward to meet Cas’s who opens willingly, accepting everything Dean has to give him. And Dean kisses him like he can’t believe this is real. He kisses him like this may be his only chance.

Cas cradles Dean’s face in his hands, steadying Dean as Dean pushes for more. He presses their bodies together, but it’s not enough. These clothes, this _skin_ is in the way. Dean kisses Castiel like he’s trying to merge their souls together. And Cas understands.

They stay there on the ground, in each other’s arms for an eternity, or maybe merely a second. Time seems inconsequential when Cas is there, holding Dean, _loving _Dean.

Eventually the outside world intrudes on them with a gentle knock on the door,   
“Um, is everything okay in there?”

Dean can’t help but chuckle at Jack’s concerned tone, and Cas meets his eyes and smiles.

* * *

Cas doesn’t pack a duffle. He packs a suitcase.

Cas had insisted on waiting for Anael’s return despite Dean’s protests. Cas argued that no matter what, Anael had been an invaluable friend and deserved a proper goodbye, and Dean begrudgingly agreed.

Anael had hugged Castiel tenderly, happy tears shining in her eyes.

She had hugged Dean as well and had used the opportunity to threaten ‘a fate worse than death’ if he hurt Castiel again. Dean secretly admitted he kind of like her. And of course Dean could never repay Anael for taking care of Cas when Dean wasn’t there. He would always be grateful to her for that.

Even so, he couldn’t help but growl when she kissed Cas on the cheek and made him promise to visit. Cas had merely rolled his eyes at him.

Sam and Jack had been overjoyed to learn that Cas was coming home. Sam couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow when he had seen the state of Dean and Cas when they had finally opened the door, but when he saw their hands interlocked, he gave them a soft smile.

Nothing needed to be said when they all climbed into the impala. Sam went to sit with Jack in the backseat, and Cas climbed in next to Dean. Cas hesitated a second, so Dean quickly grabbed his hand and placed a gentle kiss against his palm.

Cas smiled happily at Dean, and Dean smiled back. Their hands stay intertwined the entire ride home.

_We’ll defeat Chuck. And we’ll take on the empty. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making Cas happy._

Dean glanced over at Cas next to him, the setting sun forming a soft golden aura around him.

Now that Dean had Cas, he was never losing him again.

His hand tightened around the steering wheel.

Even if he has to fight God and a cosmic entity to make it so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm thinking of doing a short bonus chapter where they defeat God and the Empty, let me know if anyone's interested. I did say I loved a happy ending!
> 
> (Comments always appreciated!)

**Author's Note:**

> I added Anael to this story because I love Danneel Ackles and I wish she had more scenes with Misha.  
Listen, I love Dean, but he's always been a dick to Cas and I just want Cas to be happy.  
I've already written the ending so expect the next chapter soon.
> 
> (comments appreciated!)


End file.
